


Of Service

by georgette_the_frog



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, I need practice writing smut so here y'all go, PWP, Rough Sex, Shameless Smut, Wall Sex, gosh isn't it great when both people in a relationship can pick each other up?, sometimes you just need to get pinned to a wall and fucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 17:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11063280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgette_the_frog/pseuds/georgette_the_frog
Summary: Being co-commanders is stressful, and sometimes they just need an outlet.





	Of Service

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this with Shiro being 26 and Allura being whatever the Altean equivalent of 28 is. If the stuff with the unconfirmed canon ages makes you uncomfortable, this fic is not the fic for you.

She’s not in a mood to be patient today, she decides as Shiro kisses slowly down her neck. She’s already halfway out of her suit, and it’s high time she was out of it completely, and Shiro was out of his, and this is all _too slow_ and she needs him _now._

She reaches for the sealing slide that opens and closes her suit, only partially open, and rips it the rest of the way down. “Can you follow an order?”

“Anything,” he relinquishes the crook of her neck even as she works to remove the rest of her suit, peeling it over her hips and down her thighs.

For a moment, she hesitates, uncertain if she can ask this of him. Shiro has proven to be attentive and cautious, and willing to do near anything she asks of him.

“I want you to fuck me. Hard.”

He pauses. Blinks. His pulse punches once, twice in his throat as he wets his bottom lip, suddenly dry.

When he doesn’t answer quickly, she pushes. “Yes or no?”

A breath hisses in through his nose. “You promise you’ll stop me if it’s…I don’t know, too much?”

“You can’t break me, Shiro.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t ask if I couldn’t handle it.”

He looks like he might give for a moment, then swallows. “Tell me again?”

“Fuck me.” His pulse jumps again and he stares her down. “That’s an order.”

Those seem to be the magic words. In the space between one breath and the next, he’s shoved her up against the wall and the world lights up. He doesn’t delay claiming her mouth, biting her lower lip and pushing until the back of her head hits the wall with a light _thump._

He breaks it off a moment later to ask, “Your room…?”

“No, right here. Come on, suit off,” she demands, reaching for the sealing slide of his suit and dragging it down his spine when she finds it.

“Eager, aren’t you?”

“What did you think I meant by ‘fuck me’?”

His breath catches and he drags his arms free of his suit, a decidedly inelegant action. Then again, it doesn’t seem to matter as he gets his hands on her, shoving her shoulders into the wall hard, but just shy of bruising.

She puts up a token resistance, more interested in getting his suit off of him than anything else. The sealing slide reaches the end and she pushes his suit down over his hips. It’s another briefly awkward scramble to get his legs out of the suit, and then they’re both fighting to get out of compression undergarments and it’s not exactly a shame she’s got two pieces to deal with and he only has one, because she’s only just managed to free herself of her bra when he’s dragging her shorts down her legs.

He bites a bruise into her hipbone and seems to consider his position with a faint smile. He doesn’t hesitate to get his hands on her, his breath hitching as he finds how wet she is. As appealing as his hands are, she doesn’t give him the chance to continue, lacing her fingers through the lone tuft of longer hair he has and tugging his head back and up. “I said…”

“I know.” He laughs this time. “You just like saying it.”

“I like the effect it has on…”

He doesn’t let her finish. As he leans forward, he hooks his arms under her thighs and drags her up to pin her against the wall. When he stands, the wall sticks to her skin, leaving something like a scrape, something like a burn up her spine. The friction, the faint edge of pain, they’re delicious, sending a prickle of electricity across her skin. Pinned like that, it takes a long moment of careful adjustment before he’s finally sinking into her, his expression so intense she very nearly moans from that alone.

It’s good, really very good, but it isn’t getting the job done. Shiro is paying more attention to keeping her pinned to the wall than he is to pleasing her, and it’s nearly impossible for her to adjust their position or pace herself, pinned as she is. She knows she’s strong enough to get him off of her, but there’s no way to maintain the precariously balanced position they’re in without his help.

_“Harder.”_

The next thrust pushes her a bit further up the wall, a better angle but still not quite right. She braces herself on his shoulders and tilts her hips and it’s so much better she moans.

“Better?” He asks with a grin. Thankfully he maintains the angle but slows, and frustration grows in her chest.

“I didn’t tell you to slow down…” She trails off with a gasp as he picks the pace back up, and oh, yes, that’s much better. She gives instructions and he follows them to the letter, and before long he’s hitting the right spot at the perfect pace and the demands evaporate. Instead, since he responds so well to feedback, she lets nonsense and praise spill from her lips. “There, that’s, ah that’s so good. You’re so good to me, I’m…” the wall behind her presses into her spine and it’s almost overwhelming, being pinned as she is. His shoulders shake with the strain, but he flashes another grin for a moment before returning his attention to the task at hand.

It ought to be an awkward position, but it _works_ , and he’s finally hit his stride. There’s something she hasn’t seen from him before in the way his biceps push into her legs, keeping her splayed out and held in place. The rhythm is steady and just shy of too intense, and her words are punctuated by staccato breaths and sounds that are dangerously close to moans. She feels safe and secure in his arms, steady as he is.

She can tell he’s close as his rhythm begins to falter. “Don’t stop. Don’t come yet.” She digs her nails into his shoulders, clinging. “I’m so close.”

“I’d help…more but I don’t…have any hands free.” His smile is unsteady and he slows slightly, shrugging one shoulder pointedly until she removes her hand and slips it between them to get at her clit. It doesn’t take long before it’s all too much, and if asked she would absolutely deny the sound that clawed its way from her throat.

“Allura, please. Come for me.” She’s knocked breathless by the intensity in his voice and in his eyes, but it’s another minute before she’s finally overwhelmed by the way each and every fiber of Shiro’s attention is fixated on pleasing her. Her control slips and she gasps out her satisfaction, and as her climax makes her body tighten, Shiro holds her tighter, watching her expression with a look of undisguised wonder.

After, she clings to him as he shifts and grabs her hips hard enough to bruise, his rhythm falling apart. He shudders and follows her over the edge, burying his face in her shoulder and groaning low in his chest.

He can barely meet her eyes when they come back to themselves, and it’s not without effort that he shifts her legs to wrap around his waist, pulls her to his chest, and carries her without debate to her bedroom.

She doesn’t entirely register the moan that expresses her over-sensitivity and satisfaction as he carefully lets her down onto the bed, but Shiro does. He stretches out alongside her and watches, smiling faintly. “You alright?”

“Fantastic,” she groans, still trying to gather her thoughts. “That was…stars.”

She says it as offhandedly as she can, trying not to sound too intense. Shiro doesn’t always handle praise well, and more than once he’s been extremely reluctant to accept compliments, or even positive feedback when he doesn’t deserve it.

Behind closed doors, there are times he’s heart-wrenchingly insecure, but right now he’s got a cocky smile and accepts it without argument. Instead, he leans in to beg more kisses.

She’s still riding the high, feeling unbelievably fucked-out for the first time in a long time. She can feel bruises growing across her thighs and up her back, throbbing slowly as her heart rate falls back to normal. He traces a path down her jawline and peppers kisses down her neck, taking his sweet time until he nips a collarbone and leans back.

“You’re wonderful,” she murmurs, enjoying the languid feeling drifting through her.

“Happy to be of service.” There’s humor in his voice and she opens her eyes to find him grinning at her.

“Oh shush.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse. Comments, questions, and concerns always appreciated!
> 
> Come visit me at georgette-the-frog on tumblr :D


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